


Something You Earn

by White_Noise



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Cardassia, Post-Star Trek Picard, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Noise/pseuds/White_Noise
Summary: A Sub-Space Communication between Julian and Elim is interupted by a communication from Starfleet with a strange offer for the doctor.A mini DS9 story about new opportunities and the challenges we face in life.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21
Collections: Sid City Social Club Script Collection





	Something You Earn

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in August 2020 as my gift for the SidCity Social Club Script Submission.
> 
> Proof Reading (and teaching me how to write scripts) was done by fellow SidCity members Marlowe and Kay. 
> 
> This is set after the events of Season 1 of Star Trek Picard but does not contain any major spoilers for the same.

_**Cast:**_  
Doctor Julian Bashir - A human doctor, currently working on Cardassia Prime  
Elim Garak - a Cardassian, currently attending a diplomatic event on Betazed  
Lt Dosse - A Soong style Android currently working for the Federation Embassy  
Ambassador Thamath - A Romulan Starfleet officer currently serving as the Ambassador to Cardassia

 _ **Mentioned:**_  
Castallen Natima Lang - Head of the Cardassian Union  
Doctor Affrey - A Cardassian Doctor and co-worker to Doctor Bashir  
Lwaxana Troi - A Betazed diplomat and all round fabulous being  
Keiko O’Brien - A Botanist and wife of Chief O’Brien, Doctor Bashir’s best friend

-

 _ **INT. HOUSE ON CARDASSIA PRIME - NIGHT**_  
Opening. Black screen. 

Screen comes to life and a 54 year old JULIAN BASHIR sits facing the COMM. He’s rubbing his face and looking tired. He’s dressed in a scruffy Starfleet undershirt which clashes with the nice decor of the room behind him. He reaches over and types something into the COMM (camera facing him).

BASHIR  
(To Computer)  
Log of Doctor Julian Bashir, Star Date 75412.4. It's been four nights since the first reports of a minor outbreak of what my patients are calling, the Grump, a viral infection which strangely, only affects those in good health. The known symptoms include a headache, stomachache, emotional instability and shortness of temper. Just today, security had to step in when one of my patients, a male in the prime of his life, took a swing at me in a Grump induced fit of rage. Fortunately, he only grazed me before he was taken down. I am assured by my colleague, Doctor Affrey, that this virus is well known and easily treated and yet, I do worry for those suffering. Their increased aggression can be dangerous if not handled correctly and I fear that someone could be seriously injured by a suffering loved one.

Bashir sighes and leans back on his seat; 

BASHIR  
Fortunately, as Doctor Affrey has pointed out numerous times, it has been a long time since there were food and medical shortages here on Cardassia Prime and I should be grateful this outbreak is happening now, instead of during my first few years here. Indeed, I am. Or would be, if Starfleet was not hounding me on a written report on the current situation. As it so happens, Castellan Lang’s people have already contacted me to ‘politely’ inform me that they will be reading whatever I send to Starfleet, as if I wasn’t already aware of that. You would think, given my years of service here on Cardassia and the relationships I have formed, they would be willing to trust me by now.

Julian smiles to himself, looking down at his lap as he contemplates his situation. He is no longer speaking to the computer.

BASHIR  
Not that Cardassians are known for their trust in outsiders. Come on Julian, you should know that by now.

Bashir’s comm beeps. He looks up at the screen. 

BASHIR  
Speak of the devil and he is summoned.

A second screen appears showing a familiar face. The person is seated in a luxurious state room and wearing a brightly coloured and well fitting shirt. ELIM GARAK raises an eye ridge in question.

GARAK  
Well, I am hardly going to ignore such a summons.

BASHIR  
Of course you have been eavesdropping into my private logs. How much did you hear?

GARAK  
My dear, it is hardly my fault that you refuse to secure your personal information. And don't worry. I have only just sat down at my terminal a moment ago. I have no interest in listening to your medical logs.

BASHIR  
I suppose it is also not your fault that you insist on hacking me?

GARAK  
Well, if you would actually present a challenge for once, I might be deterred from doing so.

Bashir raises an eyebrow in mock confusion, grin on his face as he leans his chin on his hand.

BASHIR  
Deter you? That would be the day.

Garak laughs, amusement making his face light up. 

GARAK  
Quite right, my dear.

BASHIR  
And what, can I ask, is the reason for this call?

GARAK  
What? Am I not allowed to check up on you?

BASHIR  
Checking up is one thing, Mister Garak. Spying, another. Plus, if you are calling, all the way from Betazed, It must be urgent.

GARAK  
Not urgent, my dear Doctor. More of a friendly catch up.

BASHIR  
I hardly think we need to catch up. I have a copy of your itinerary. Your diplomatic conference has ended and you are scheduled to leave for Cardassia tomorrow morning.

Garak looks wistful. Clearing wishing himself back on Cardassia. 

GARAK  
Far, far too long a time.

BASHIR  
In fact, if memory serves, you are due to attend a state dinner very shortly, in honour of your visit and to celebrate your success.

GARAK  
Do not remind me. I have been stuck far too long in rooms filled with telepaths. I do not relish being subject to a ballroom full for an entire night. Even with my training, the headache will be unimaginable.

Bashir grins, teasing Garak.

BASHIR  
Not even to see the dashing Mrs Troi again? She was quite taken with you when she visited last. We could hardly get her off your arm in the end.

Garak pauses, a little taken aback. Mrs TROI is a force to be reckoned with and one Garak has never been at ease with. He then looks at Bashir, realising the human is mocking him.

GARAK  
You are enjoying this.

BASHIR  
Well, you will go to another planet and leave me all alone to take care of your garden.

GARAK  
Ah. I see you are still trying to murder my Antarean Basil.

BASHIR  
The Basil is fine. I am more worried about the state of the Bajoran Orchards.

Garak shakes his head, exasperated at the thought his beloved plants are suffering. 

GARAK  
Really Julian. After so many years of friendship with her husband, I would have thought Mrs O’Brien would have instilled in you some mild interest in the welfare of my garden.

Bashir looks shame faced. He realises he has disappointed Garak. 

BASHIR  
Of course. I am sorry Elim.

GARAK  
So I take it, my garden is still in one piece?

BASHIR  
Yes, yes. I even remembered to water the Dutara Root, unlike last time. And before you lecture me, I made sure not to give it too much.

GARAK  
There is hope for you yet, I see. And now that I have confirmed my garden is in one piece, I must ensure my other great love is also safely cared for.

Bashir sighs. He rubs his face across his hand. Suddenly he looks fatigued.

BASHIR  
I should have guessed. Is it Affrey who spoke to you?

GARAK  
My dear Julian, you should know by now that I am not likely to give away my sources of information.

BASHIR  
You would rather protect a spy ‘you’ clearly placed on my team, instead of letting me tell you about my day?

GARAK  
Well, would you have honestly told me that you are running yourself into the ground, dealing with an outbreak of The Grump?

BASHIR  
I am fine Elim. It is only mild. I am no more busy than usual.

Garak humps, clearly not believing the comment. He knows more than he is letting on but is giving Bashir a chance to come clean.

GARAK  
My dear, after surviving a war and an unfortunate entanglement with Section 31, I would have thought you would become a better liar than this.”

BASHIR  
I am hardly lying.

GARAK  
Then you won’t mind telling me how it came about that you are sporting a very mild bruise to your left cheek?

Bashir reaches for his face, looking surprised. He runs his fingers across his left cheek but finds nothing there.

BASHIR  
Where? I made sure to run a dermal regenerator over the area as soon as I could.

Garak looks pointedly at him.

BASHIR  
Ah. A bluff.

Garak shakes his head. Despite his concern, he is amused by the Doctor's antics. 

BASHIR  
Really Elim, I am quite alright. A Grump induced fit of rage is hardly likely to knock me down.

GARAK  
You would know better than I how dangerous a head injury can be. Especially in the case of you humans who lack the protective ridges we Cardassians are born with. Really, with that and your general lack of survival instincts, it is a marvel how such a vulnerable race survived for so long, let alone figured out Warp technology.

BASHIR  
Our survival instincts have served us very well, thank you very much.

Bashir's comm pings. 

GARAK  
Oh! It seems that you are wanted. What was that you were saying about being no more busy than usual?

Bashir glares before reaching over to the computer (towards the camera. He types something, opening the communication. 

It is an android. Lt Dosse of Starfleet. The android is seated in a sparse office which is part of the Federation Embassy. A blank wall is behind them. They are dressed in a standard Starfleet uniform.

BASHIR  
Lt Dosse. To what do I owe this pleasure?

The android looks mildly confused, raising an eyebrow as the comment goes over their head. They are newly built and not used to phrases. 

LT. DOSSE  
I apologise Doctor Bashir. I was not aware there was a pleasure to my appearance.

Bashir chuckles and shakes his head, remembering another Android he once worked with, now sadly gone. 

BASHIR  
It’s a figure of speech, Lt.

The android nods, clearly not understanding but willing to defer to the human’s expertise. 

LT. DOSSE  
Understood. I apologise for the intrusion at this late hour. Ambassador Thamath requested I comm you immediately.

Bashir looks surprised. 

BASHIR  
Oh? And what does the Ambassador want from me?

LT. DOSSE  
I am uncertain. The Ambassador did not make me privy to the reason for this communication.

BASHIR  
Of course she didn’t. Garak, if you don’t mind, I had better take this.

Garak nods in understanding and shifts in his seat. He is starting to look uncomfortable. 

GARAK  
Of course my Dear. I should be getting ready for tonight before one of Natima’s aids walks in and discovers me in this hideous outfit.

BASHIR  
Your outfit is, as always, perfectly fine Garak.

GARAK  
Yes, but it would not do my reputation any favors to be seen in the same outfit twice in so short a time.

Bashir can’t stop the chuckle at the thought of Garak and his fashion faux pas. 

BASHIR  
Alright. Go get changed you old drama queen.

Garak reaches up and types something on his keypad. screen goes blank. Immediately a new screen opens showing a female Romulan seated in a decorated room. A large window is behind her and visible outside is Cardassia Central, the main city of the Cardassian Union. The Romulan is dressed in a Starfleet dress shirt and displays the rank pips of Captain.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Doctor Bashir. I hope I haven’t disturbed you?

LT. DOSSE  
Doctor Bashir was in communication with Mr Garak. It has ended now.

Ambassador Thamath looked pointedly at Lt Dosse who shifts almost nervously. 

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Thank you Lt. Must I remind you again about the use of pleasantries?

LT. DOSSE  
I apologise Ambassador.

Bashir shakes his head. He is aware of the Ambassador’s attempts to ‘Teach’ the android. He decides to intervene.

BASHIR  
Ambassador Thamath. It is lovely seeing you again. Please do not worry. The Lt did not interrupt anything important.

Ambassador Thamath smiles and turns her attention to him.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
I find communicating with one's spouse is the most important communication there is. But then again, I am old and it has been a long time since my husband passed.

The Ambassador peeters off and stares off into space, thinking back on her past.

BASHIR  
I am sorry.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Not your fault. At least he died on his beloved Romulus. And I still have our children with me, even when they forget to contact me.

Ambassador Thamath looks away again. 

Bashir cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of a deceased spouse. He wants to get to the reason the Ambassador called.

BASHIR  
And what can I do for you?

Ambassador Thamath shakes herself out of her thoughts and regards Bashir carefully, an eyebrow raised. 

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Oh yes. As you know, I am becoming far too old to be galavanting around on the whims of Starfleet. My retirement is inevitable. Sooner, rather than later.

BASHIR  
You are retiring?

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Yes. It has been a long posting and I have enjoyed myself immensely but it is time I hand the reins over to someone younger to represent The Federation’s interests in the Cardassian Union.

BASHIR  
Oh. Well, congratulations.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Thank you.

BASHIR  
Is there anyone Starfleet has in mind to replace you?

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Well, that is why I called. My colleagues in Starfleet have been discussing my replacement and a name has been thrown into the ring which I think you would find interesting.

BASHIR  
And who might that be?

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Why, you.

Bashir looks taken aback, mouth open in surprise. 

BASHIR  
Me?

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Yes. Several I have spoken to believe it is a good fit. Including the Castallen.

BASHIR  
But I am not an Ambassador. I don’t have any training.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Oh Doctor. When Starfleet first arrived shortly into the relief efforts, you were the first to get out and assist the clean up. You have always been a faithful member of my team and when not working for Starfleet, have been striving to work with the people of Cardassia, even when their reception has been less than friendly. You may find you are more suited than you think.

BASHIR  
I have only been doing my duty as a Doctor here.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
And it shows. Your dedication to your duty is admirable.

BASHIR  
Why do I feel there is another reason behind this offer?

Ambassador Thamath sighs and looks away from the screen. She reaches up and scratches her neck, clearly uncomfortable. 

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Because there always is. Your ‘status’ has also been mentioned.

Bashir’s shoulders slump, his face falling as he realises what that means.

BASHIR  
The fact that I’m an Augment?

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
I am sure I need not remind you that there is still a vocal minority who dislikes you on principle?

Bashir shakes his head. He looks away from the screen and off into space, contemplating something.

BASHIR  
No. You do not.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Well, while it's hardly likely that you plan to return to Earth in the near future, given your life here, a few of my colleagues wish to ‘sweeten the pot’ so to say.

Lt Dosse finally moves. All the time, they have been frozen in Android stillness, watching the conversation. They look confused. 

LT. DOSSE  
I apologise Ambassador. I was of the understanding you were offering the Doctor the Ambassadorship? I do not see where a pot is, but I can look into it.

Ambassador Thamath sighs again, exasperated by the Androids child like mis-understanding. She sends Bashir a little smile to show her exasperation.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Synths. Ever since Starfleet rescinded the Synth ban, it is like having a child again.

The Ambassador turns to look at the SYNTH with a fond parental look.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
It's a figure of speech Lt.

Lt Dosse nodes, eyes looking away from the screen, face slowly showing understanding. 

LT. DOSSE.  
Understood. My apologies for the interruption.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Look Bashir. A few people in Starfleet want to forget you exist. Your recent win of the Carrington Award and your history of service during the Dominion War has made many question why you are still here on Cardassia instead of out on a ship at the forefront of modern medicine. This posting is not a popular one among my colleagues and Starfleet is not overly interested in spending much effort on finding my replacement. This is a convenience for all involved. You get the promotion you deserve and can stay on the planet you so clearly love and I can be assured my position is being taken up by someone I trust.

BASHIR  
It's a bribe. To keep me out of the way.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Not necessarily. Even if there weren't mutterings, I would have suggested you. The people of Cardassia like and trust you, unlike most of the people the Federation sends here. It's a good fit. It will afford you use of the Ambassadors lodgings and apart from the occasional state events, you will hardly have to change your routine. You can even continue working in the hospitals and will have greater say in what supplies Starfleet sends.

BASHIR  
I know. I had just hoped that I could have earnt this on my own merit.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
But you did. A Carrington Award winner can choose their own path. But I understand if you are not interested.

A voice chimes from a black screen. It turns on to show Garak still sitting in the same room as before. It is clear he has been eavesdropping on the conversation

GARAK  
Don’t write him off just yet Ambassador.

BASHIR  
Have you been eavesdropping again?

The Ambassador gives the Cardassian a bright smile, clearly sensing an ally to her plight.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Ah! Mister Garak. I hope you don’t mind, I have been attempting to talk your husband into taking up this offer.

GARAK  
Once again, the long arm of the Federation emerges to tempt us all.

Ambassador Thamath just smiles and nods, unfazed by Garak’s catty comment. 

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Indeed. You have the measure of us, Mister Garak.

GARAK  
I do. And I agree, it is a good fit for Julian. Please do not write him off yet Ambassador. I will speak with my Dear Doctor, see if I can talk some sense into him.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Of course. We will leave you be. Lt Dosse, please send the Doctor thorough details of the position.

LT. DOSSE  
Yes Ambassador. Right away.

AMBASSADOR THAMATH  
Doctor Bashir, Mister Garak, I leave you to your talk and I hope to hear your answer shortly.

Both Lt Dosse and Ambassador Thamath leave the chat.

Bashir turns on Garak, giving him an irritated look.

BASHIR  
You knew, didn’t you?

GARAK  
Knew what, my dear?

BASHIR  
That Ambassador Thamath intended to offer me the Ambassadorship.

Garak shrugs, disinterested.

GARAK  
My dear friend Natima Lang did make mention of it when I commed her earlier today. As she put it, it would make it much easier for Cardassia and Starfleet if, when attending these dull meetings, the Federation Ambassador was on the arm of the Cardassian representative.

Bashir grumbles under his breath before shaking his head slightly. He then smiles. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from Garak.

BASHIR  
You sneak. You didn’t comm because I got hit, did you? You just wanted to see my reaction to the offer?

GARAK  
Well, I will admit, I was curious to see how you would take the news.

BASHIR  
And if I do take this offer, what is in it for you?

GARAK  
Like the current Ambassador said, you would be less likely to leave me for Earth.

BASHIR  
I was hardly likely to do that anyway. With the exception of visiting Miles and Keiko and occasionally checking up on Jake, there is nothing left for me on Earth.

GARAK  
No. Your heart lies here. You are, by now, a true Cardassian.

BASHIR  
Not quite. If reading The Never Ending Sacrifice has taught me anything, it is that I still need to give my heart to the State. Something I refuse to do.

GARAK  
But you gave your heart to me. And between you and I, that is more than enough.

Both of them share a smile of remembrance. 

BASHIR  
I will think about it.

GARAK  
And I am sure whatever you decide, you will be happy. And I will be happy for you. Now, I really must be going. The dinner has already started and I need to change before Mrs Troi barges in here to drag me from the room.

BASHIR  
And I will see you when you get home.

GARAK  
Less than 24 hours from now.

BASHIR  
I will expect you to not be even a minute late.

GARAK  
Indeed. Good night Julian.

BASHIR  
Good night Elim.

Bashir reaches out his hand to the keyboard, about to deactivate the comm. He pauses when Garak calls his name.

GARAK  
Oh, and Julian…..please remember to delete your log entry when you finish up.

Garak smirks and deactivates his comm. This is his way of saying ‘I love you’

Julian smiles, shaking his head before deactivating his own comm. 

Screen goes black.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. If I learnt anything from this, its that I do not like script writing but it was a good learning experiance.
> 
> This is dedicated to all the amazing people in the SCSC. Sadly, due to work committments, I have not been present in the chats this last month but I hope I can get back soon.


End file.
